


Younger Gods

by orchidbreezefc



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Angst, Dystopia, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Nightmares, Sleep, Sleep Deprivation, Sort Of, jon is a god nbd, post-Watcher's Crown
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-19
Updated: 2019-07-19
Packaged: 2020-07-08 20:07:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 516
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19875340
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orchidbreezefc/pseuds/orchidbreezefc
Summary: For the Tumblr prompt: sleep/sleepy intimacy and dystopia.





	Younger Gods

**Author's Note:**

  * For [badskeletonpuns](https://archiveofourown.org/users/badskeletonpuns/gifts).



It’s hard, in the days after the Watcher’s Crown. They take what moments they can get. Moments like this: alone together, isolated from the world outside. Jon so tired that his many eyes and wings are beginning to disappear as his mind shuts down. So tired that he has less energy to agonize about what he has unwittingly done, creating the factory farm of fear he was warned against so long ago, but not tired enough to sleep, go into his nightmare state and make things worse for everyone.

“I don’t want to sleep,” Jon says pitifully, curling into Martin’s chest and fisting his hands in his shirt. “I hate hurting people like that. I hate seeing everyone… watching… being _there_ …”

“I know you do,” Martin murmurs into Jon’s hair. “It’s not your fault. You can’t help it.”

“But I chose it,” Jon says bitterly. Martin’s hands tighten at Jon’s back at the echo of Elias, who knew this was going to happen, who facilitated all of this and led Jon by the nose into it.

“I wish I could take this on for you, so you didn’t have to be alone,” Martin whispers, tucking a grey lock of hair behind Jon’s ear. “I wish you could stay awake all the time, like that monster.”

“I don’t wish I was like him in any way,” Jon says venomously, then relents. “He uses that insomnia to watch all the time anyway. It wouldn’t help to be like him.”

“You aren’t,” Martin says, wishing it didn’t ring so hollow. “We don’t have any proof that you staying up helps anyone, you know?” he says instead, maybe changing the topic too quickly. “What if it just delays it?” He tilts his forehead against the crown of Jon’s head. “What if it just hurts you?”

“Then I would deserve it,” Jon mumbles. “Look what I’ve done.”

Martin sighs and leans back, tilting Jon’s face up to meet his eyes, the ones he has always had, still hazel and human and real. Something to focus on other than the restlessly shifting shapes of the _other_ eyes under his skin, all ready to manifest and open at any time. “I will love you no matter what, Jon, you know that. If you have to sleep, I’ll be here when you wake up, all right?”

Jon bites his lip to keep his expression neutral, then when his face is about to crumple anyway, he leans up and kisses Martin to mask it. Martin curls his hands around the back of Jon’s neck in return, holding him steady.

“Sleep,” he murmurs. “We can handle it.” He wipes away the tears that streak down Jon’s face even as he finally acquiesces, curling himself close with his head in Martin’s lap. Martin strokes his hair and keeps his eyes determinedly on Jon’s face rather than the wings unfurling from his body. He clutches Jon closer as his own body quakes, wracked with the terror seeping in every direction out of his world’s new god to blanket the Earth, and doesn’t for a moment regret loving him.


End file.
